


The Truth Is Out There?

by clotpoleofthelord (plantainleaf)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cockblocking Sam, Curses, First Time, M/M, Men of Letters Headquarters, Truth Spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantainleaf/pseuds/clotpoleofthelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's eyes widened as he felt his mouth open without his permission. "I was sorting through the junk in the boxes and thinking about whether you would ever come back." He closed his mouth sharply as Cas' head whipped up to look at him. </p><p>"Okay, definitely some mojo on this ring. This is not cool."</p><p>"It appears to have some sort of compulsion attached to it. Have you felt any other unusual urges since you put the ring on?"</p><p>Again that need to answer overwhelmed Dean. "The only thing is having to answer every damn question you ask me!" His voice rose higher, his frustration evident. "You gotta get this thing off me, Cas. Or I can never be in public again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth Is Out There?

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to cliffnotesofanerd for beta reading and drownedinblissfulconfusion for brainstorming solutions to writers' block!

The bunker was silent.

Sam had taken a trip to pick up a book from a contact in Texas, leaving Dean to sort through the endless artifacts, trinkets and notes the Men of Letters had left behind when they disappeared. They'd left their cups half-emptied and chessgames unfinished and a serious mess in their archives.

He reached into a box, hoping for another cache of 40’s porn.

"Figures," he muttered as he drew out yet another ornate ring. This one was heavy, silver, and engraved with images around its circumference. As he held it up to the light and looked closer, he realized the carvings depicted tiny, chubby naked angels, wings extended, holding onto a chain that ran around the ring’s edge. "Creepy," snorted Dean, marking it down on his list. Once they'd sorted everything into types and likely origins, they could begin to research whether any of it would possibly be useful. The sorting process, though, was long and boring. Dean had a feeling that porn was the most useful “artifact” he was likely to find.

He began to set the ring down in the Judeo-Christian (pre-Renaissance) pile when he had a sudden thought.

"Cas, you listening?" He waited a moment. "Just found something here that's got what looks like pictures of your buddy Cupid if you're interested. Come on down if you want a look ...." He trailed off, glancing around the room and hoping to see a familiar trenchcoat. "Okay, then," he sighed. It had been weeks since the angel had answered a prayer and he was starting to worry a little. "Be nice to hear from you, Cas. It's been a while. We could use your help around here getting this place in shape." He glanced at the pile of boxes. "You'd at least be more likely to know what some of this crap is than we are."

Fiddling with the ring, he looked around the room. He and Sam had made some progress and the bunker was starting to feel a bit more like home, something the Winchesters hadn't had in more than 30 years.

Dean reached for his coffee and whacked his knee on the hard corner of a chair, stumbling slightly, and the ring suddenly - almost as if by magic - slipped onto his finger. That was never a good sign.

"Son of a bitch!" He grabbed hold of the ring, pulled and twisted - no luck. The ring was stuck tight on his hand. Looking down, he groaned. It was on his wedding ring finger, so there went any chance of getting laid for a while (he conveniently ignored that he hadn't picked anyone up in a more than a year).

Of course, that was the moment the angel appeared in the bunker.

"Hello, Dean." Cas stood by the research table, squinting at Dean's hands which were still frantically pulling at the ring. "That seems to be a powerful artifact. Perhaps you shouldn't have put it on." His voice was grave.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" growled Dean, frustrated. "Damn thing just jumped on my finger!"

Castiel strode towards him and held a hand out. Dean stared at it for a moment, then let out an exasperated noise and put his hand on the angel's, feeling out of his depth.

Cas was all business. He tugged on Dean's hand and examined the ring closely, frowning.

"This ring is not one I am familiar with. What were you doing when you came across it?"

Dean's eyes widened as he felt his mouth open without his permission. "I was sorting through the junk in the boxes and thinking about whether you would ever come back." He closed his mouth sharply as Cas' head whipped up to look at him. "Okay, definitely some mojo on this ring. This is not cool."

"It appears to have some sort of compulsion attached to it. Have you felt any other unusual urges since you put the ring on?"

Again that need to answer overwhelmed Dean. "The only thing is having to answer every damn question you ask me!" His voice rose higher, his frustration evident. "You gotta get this thing off me, Cas. Or I can never be in public again."

Castiel wrapped his hand around Dean's finger and pulled at the ring. "There is some condition that will have to be met before it can be removed, I believe."

Dean swore. "Like what?"

"Rings such as these will compel you to complete an action. Once that action is complete, the ring will loosen."

"So what's the deal with this one?"

Cas stepped closer, pulling Dean's hand right up to his eye level and squinting at the engravings. Dean looked away, trying to ignore the angel's hot breath on his knuckles.

The silence stretched as neither moved. Finally, Cas dropped Dean’s hand with a huff. “I don’t know, Dean. How are you feeling?”

“Frustrated, annoyed, and glad you showed up because Sam’s been gone a while and the place was feeling empty. And really fucking annoyed that apparently I have to tell you all my damn feelings.”

Dean could have sworn Cas was hiding a smile. “Is it only questions about your state of mind that you must answer, or all questions?”

“All questions -- wait, I didn’t even know that yet!”

This time Cas didn’t hide the pleased look in his eye. “Then it seems the artifact is granting you some knowledge we can use. What is it?”

Dean’s mouth opened and the words sprung out: “The Ring of Truth.”

“And what will allow it to be removed?”

“Bringing something deeply buried to light will free the wearer.” Dean’s heart dropped. This was going to be a much shittier evening than he’d been planning for. Suddenly he wished he had a beer. Or a six-pack. Or maybe a gallon of whiskey. “So I have to tell you a secret?”

“That seems to be the most plausible solution, yes.”

Dean backed away from the table, clutching his coffee, and collapsed into a couch. “Shit.”

Castiel followed him, picking a book from a shelf as he passed. “I will research this artifact. It may be helpful for you to consider what secrets would meet the criteria.”

Dean leaned his head back against the back of the couch, watching the angel out of the corner of his eye. “Hey Cas?” he asked quietly.

Cas raised his head from the book slowly, eyes still scanning the pages. “Yes, Dean?”

“Uh, until we figure this out, could you... would you try to not ask me questions? It’s pretty uncomfortable to have to answer them.”

Understanding filled Cas’ eyes. “Of course.” He returned to his research.

\---

Half an hour later, Dean started as he was dragged from his deep haze of frustration, embarrassment and reflection by Cas’ abrupt closing of the book he had been reading. “Find anything?”

Castiel sighed and replied, “I found the origin of the artifact. However, I don’t know how helpful this information will be.”

Rubbing his neck as he sat back upright, Dean watched Castiel glare at the book, the table, and the entire bunker as if it had all personally conspired to keep him from a solution. “Well, tell me what you got and we can go from there.”

“The ring was forged in approximately 700 BC by an Assyrian woman who was betrayed by her husband. She cast it in a mold carved of griffin bones, granting it their powers of truth. It changed hands multiple times over the centuries, and had been thought lost, according to this source, in approximately 1203 AD, when the Fourth Crusade sacked Constantinople. Perhaps one of your ancestors was among the crusaders and brought the ring back to Europe.”

“Great. That’s not at all helpful.” Dean flopped back down into the couch, mentally cataloguing his secrets. There had to be something there that would work, right? “So, what, should I just start spouting secrets and hope one’s deep enough?”

“Indeed.” Castiel walked over and sat beside him. “Perhaps begin with one that’s not painful or important first.”

Closing his eyes, Dean tried his first attempt. “I like cooking for Sam because I never could when we were kids.” Opening one eye, he pulled at the ring. Nope. “I cried at the movie American Tail while Sam was at Stanford.” No luck. “Sometimes when I’m alone in a motel I turn on a jazz station and sing along.” Still nothing. "And I dance a little too." No movement. "I once snuck into a ballet studio and watched a class..." He paused and tried the ring with no luck. "... and I kind of wanted to try it." No dice.

“These are not very serious secrets, Dean. The ring requires a deep confession, not just a frivolous truth. Tell me something more private and perhaps that will work.” Cas’ tone was disapproving. Dean avoided his eyes.

“A girl once made me wear her panties and I really liked it -- Dammit, Cas, don’t order me to tell you things!”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Why would you wear women's undergarments? They seem impractical enough on a woman. I cannot imagine they would be comfortable on a man.”

Dean felt a blush rising up his neck and across his face as well as the beginnings of a killer headache. He buried his face in his hands, wondering if this evening was going to keep going downhill. “So not the time to discuss that, Cas! Actually, never the time." He shook his head. "Good talk. Moving on.”

The ring slid slightly on his finger as he drew a hand across his face.

Still squinting at Dean curiously, Cas replied, “Still, that secret does not seem to have been sufficient.”

“Figures this wouldn’t be easy.” Dean muttered into his hands, steeling himself to try something more serious. “I think Dad blamed me for Mom’s death.”

“Dean, why would you think that? You were a child.” Cas had moved closer on the couch. Dean could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in his face.

“If I had moved faster instead of freezing in the doorway... if I hadn’t needed Dad to tell me to get Sammy and go, he could have gotten to Mom sooner.” Dean glanced towards his room where his picture of Mary watched over his sleep. He started when he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, then leaned into the touch.

“It was not your fault, Dean. Even if that were true, your mother was already mortally wounded when your father found her. A few moments extra would not have saved her.”

Dean couldn’t help but lean slightly into the angel’s touch. “Thanks, Cas," he said gruffly, blinking moisture from his eyes. Pulling at the ring, he found it slightly looser than before, but still far from removable.

"We seem to have made some progress. I am truly sorry you must do this, but I believe the ring requires a deeper secret." Cas looked pained. "Would it be easier if I asked you questions? I may be able to sense which answers are more likely to meet the ring's criteria."

"It would be much easier - son of a bitch Cas, can you at least phrase things differently until we get started on the real questions? Really not fun." He sighed, and settled himself deeper in the couch. "Alright. Let's get this over with. Hit me."

"Again, I am sorry about this, Dean. I know you would prefer not to discuss these matters with me." Cas looked miserable enough that Dean felt the need to reassure him.

"It's okay, Cas. I'd rather have you asking me stuff than Sam, at least." Cas' face didn't change and Dean sighed again, more deeply, and met the angel's eyes. "Really, buddy, there's no one I'd rather be stuck dealing with this with than you." His hand found its way to Castiel's shoulder and Cas brightened a bit. He leaned forward, returning to the task at hand.

"What is something you haven't told Sam?" Cas asked, trying to leave Dean some choice in the response.

The carefully worded question gave Dean a moment's respite, and when his mouth opened once more he was in at least some control. He grimaced as he realized what was bubbling up his throat. "Sometimes I want to pick up dudes, but I've only gone through with it once." The ring loosened a tiny bit more, and, bolstered by that minute success, he continued. "It was this guy Aaron we met on a hunt earlier this year. He was a good guy and we had a good time." The words flowed out of him and it was almost a relief to unburden himself. "I didn't tell Sam I'd gone back to visit him when I was in the area -- didn't want to answer his questions. We talked, Aaron and me, and he helped me get my head on straight about some things." The ring loosened again, but was still tightly wedged below his knuckle. Dean rubbed his temples. He was getting real sick of this shit.

"What did he help you to understand?" Cas asked, curious. As the words left his lips he saw Dean shake his head, eyes wide. It was clear this was one secret Dean did not want to share, but it was too late. The question was out and the damage done.

Dean stood, turning to look away from the angel. "He made me realize that I've been in love with you since you rebelled from Heaven. That I need you in my life and I want you to stick around forever."

The ring slipped to the floor, suddenly free from Dean's motionless fingers. He didn't dare look at Castiel, instead fixing his gaze on the swords mounted on the wall and wishing with all his might that he had Cas' power to vanish from a room on command.

"Dean." The angel leaned towards him. "Dean, look at me."

Dean turned slowly towards Castiel, fighting the urge to flee. Now was the part when Cas would let him down, gently, then flutter off into the night, right? Leaving him alone, as always.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts the the hand resting tentatively against his cheek was a shock.

"Dean, I ... I think I understand how you feel. I would very much like to kiss you now, if that would be all right?"

The uncertain tone in the angel's voice broke the spell Dean was under. He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut, and felt Cas' breath ghosting across his cheek. His lips touched the angel's and --

A door slammed in the entryway and they flew apart.

"Hey, so get this!" Sam hung his coat by the door, slipped his shoes off, and stepped into the library. "The book I was going to pick up was --."

Seeing Cas, he cut himself off and a smile broke across his face. "Oh, hey Cas! Good to see you, man!" Pausing as he got a good look at the two on the couch, he frowned. "What's up? Did something happen while I was out?"

Dean and Cas both answered quickly, voices overlapping:

"Nothing! No! Just a normal night!" Dean sputtered.

"Yes, Dean was cursed briefly but it has been resolved." Cas answered calmly, the only sign of anxiety the restless motion of his fingers on the tabletop.

Sam paused in his puttering. "Wait, curse? What curse? Dean, getting cursed is not nothing. Why didn't you call me?" Sam looked hurt.

Dean groaned. "Cas and me, we figured it out. I thought you could use the road trip. Wasn't a big deal."

Cas reach down and picked up the ring carefully, setting it on the table before them. "Sam, you should avoid touching that."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, that's the understatement of the year. Unless you feel like having to dig up some bullshit feelings to reveal."

Cas turned towards Dean, eyes narrowing. "Dean, the ring only releases the wearer when a truth is revealed. Was what you said untrue?"

Dean's eyes softened as he looked at the angel, but the words stuck in his throat.

Their eyes met and held for a moment until Sam cleared his throat. "Alright, I'm heading to bed. I'll see you guys later. Dean, glad you're not cursed anymore. Cas, good to know you're back. Night, guys."

Still giving them odd glances, Sam backed away quickly and headed into his room, shutting the door with an audible click.

For a long moment, the two sat, the silence stretching between them. Suddenly Cas stood and stepped towards the door. "Excuse me, Dean; I have business to attend to. I will return when I can."

Dean reached out and grabbed the angel's wrist. "Cas, wait." He took a deep breath. "What I said earlier ... it's true. All of it. I just ... I want you to know that. I ... well, I wasn’t ready to talk about it with Sam, you know? But if it's okay with you, I'd like to pick up where we left off before. Can we maybe do that?"

The stiff line of Castiel's back relaxed slightly. He turned and grasped Dean's wrist in return, stroking a tentative finger across his palm. "Yes, Dean. I would like that very much."

Dean stood, stepping towards Castiel. He reached up a hand and brushed his knuckles across the angel's cheek. Cas' eyes slid shut as he turned his head towards Dean.

"Have you seen my room yet, Cas?" Dean stepped back, pulling the angel with him. "I have this awesome bed --" he paused, flushing slightly, "-- not that I expect -- that is ...." He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

"I would very much like to see your room, Dean," said Cas gravely. "And your bed."

Dean slid his hand down Cas' wrist until their fingers tangled. "Come on." He tugged Castiel's hand and made his way to the bedroom. "I have this great record collection, too."

As they crossed the threshold, Dean pulled Cas close. Dropping the angel's hand, he framed his face with a hand on each cheek, stroking gently with his thumbs. Cas' eyes drooped shut and he swayed against Dean. A speck of angelic power pushed the door shut with a slam and Cas leaned in once more, capturing Dean's lips in a sweet, chaste kiss.

Dean pressed back, lips sliding across the angel's. Castiel melted bonelessly against him, wrapping arms around Dean's waist. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and Dean felt a slow heat rising in his belly. He pressed the angel forward, never breaking the kiss, until Cas' knees hit the bed behind him and he sat suddenly. Dean lowered himself beside him and pulled away, panting, and examined the angel beside him.

Cas' cheeks were flushed, his hair standing in all directions, and his eyes were dark and hazy, their usual clear blue nearly obliterated by the spread pupils. His hands were clenched in Dean's flannel shirt and Dean could almost hear the racing of his heart.

"So?" asked Dean, tone innocent. "What do you think?" Cas narrowed his eyes and tried to pull Dean in once again. "Do you like the room? It's great, right?"

"Dean. If you do not resume kissing me soon, do not hold me responsible for the consequences."

It was hard to fear the wrath of Heaven when its wielder was so adorably rumpled. But Dean laughed and fit his mouth back against Cas', falling back against the bed and pulling the angel half on top of him.

Cas' face broke into one of his rare smiles as he pressed himself against Dean. Lifting himself with an elbow on either side of Dean's head, he settled on the bed, knees nudging Dean's legs apart to rest between them. "You were correct, Dean, " he informed him between kisses. "This bed is indeed comfortable."

Dean reached up and pulled Cas' head down to his and deepened the kiss, running his hands across Castiel's back. As his hands ventured lower and brushed against Cas' ass, the angel let out a groan and ground against him.

"Okay, this coat? Off, now. " Dean pushed against Cas, maneuvering the trench over one arm, then the other, pulling Cas' suit jacket with it and tossing them towards the floor. Rolling them to the side, Dean took control of the kiss, running his hands up and down Cas' sides. The angel's body felt much more muscled than it had looked beneath the shapeless trench and Dean shivered at the thought that even without his angelic mojo, Castiel might be able to overpower him. That was definitely a thought for next time (and since when was he already thinking about a next time?).

Cas' hands, now free and no longer holding him up, roamed across Dean's body. He seemed fascinated by the skin of Dean's sides and especially by the slight softness around his middle. Dean squirmed away from a particularly ticklish stroke, and Cas gasped into Dean's mouth as the motion pressed their hips more closely together. His face took on a look of concentration as he deliberately moved his hips against Dean's, eyes widening at the friction.

"You like that, Cas?" Dean asked, pressing Cas back against the bed.

Cas pulled him closer in response, kissing him again and again and rolling his hips up against Dean's.

Dean pulled away a bit and reached down, fumbling at Castiel's belt. "Just wait- it gets even better, I promise." He pushed the angel's slacks down to his knees. Cas flailed a bit, kicking them the rest of the way off, while reaching up to try and do the same to Dean's jeans. He struggled with the button for a moment, then growled in frustration.

Suddenly, Dean found himself completely naked. Sparing just a brief thought for the fate of his jeans (they'd been his last pair not stained with any sort of monster blood and he sort of hoped they'd survived Cas' mojo), he yanked off Cas' tie and ran his hands up the backs of Cas' boxer-clad thighs.

The angel shivered and pressed his erection against Dean through the thin cotton. He buried his head in Dean's neck, gasping.

Reaching for Cas' dress shirt, Dean made quick work of the buttons and Cas lifted himself slightly to allow Dean to throw the shirt aside with the rest of Cas' clothing. He pulled back, admiring the hard planes of the angel's chest, then slid down to mouth at a nipple. Cas bucked against him as Dean switched to the other nipple, fingers finding the first and pinching it gently, rolling it between his finger and thumb.

As Cas moaned, Dean sat up on the angel's thighs and pulled at his boxers. Cas wriggled unhelpfully, trying to maneuver them down without taking his hands from Dean's body. Frustrated, Dean swung his leg back from Cas' lap and pulled the offending item off in one quick movement, falling back onto his knees atop Cas' outstretched legs and taking a moment to admire the sight laid out before him. Castiel lay naked, the flush on his cheeks extending to the tips of his ears and the top of his chest. His body was firm, with smooth olive skin stretched over lithe muscles and a dusting of hair trailing down his chest. Dean's eyes trailed further downward as he sat back on his heels over the angel's calves. The hair thickened as it led downward to his cock, standing straight up and already beading with precome. Dean ran his hands across Castiel's stomach to his hips, grasping them and pressing his thumbs into the hollows of his hipbones.

Bending down, Dean nuzzled the crease between Cas' thigh and groin. Despite the sweat glistening on his skin, the angel smelled clean and sweet. Dean glanced up at Cas' face and met his wide eyes, unable to suppress a grin at the state of Castiel. His hair was wild, his eyes focused with laser intensity on Dean's face, and his lips were bruised bright red and swollen. The normally reserved and calm angel looked utterly debauched.

"Dean," moaned Cas, voice like grinding glass, "Dean, please..."

"Do you want me to do something, Cas? You gotta ask me for what you want," Dean grinned, eyes twinkling.

Cas' eyes darkened and he thrust towards Dean's face, leaving a moist trail across his cheek. "Dean!" He ground, voice commanding, "put your mouth on me."

"Is that an order-" Dean let out what he would never admit was a high-pitch squeak as Cas used his angelic strength to flip them on their sides, cock pressing insistently on Dean's closed mouth. Dean snorted, rolled the angel back down. "Okay, okay..." he muttered, and wrapped his lips around the head of Cas' cock.

Cas let out a loud groan and buried his hands in Dean"s hair, eyes drifting closed. Breathing Dean's name, he thrust shallowly. Dean pressed Cas' hips down and slid his mouth down, opening his throat, until his nose brushed Cas' thick hair. Choking slightly, he pulled off and ran his tongue around the head of the angel's cock, sucking lightly.

Cas moaned and gripped the sheets tightly in both hands, mouth open and head thrown back. Watching him, Dean couldn't help but reach down to fist his own clock, but the motion was halted when Cas grasped his shoulder hard enough to bruise and yanked him up, crushing their mouths together. Dean, suddenly harder than he could ever remember being, rutted against the angel helplessly, sweat, spit and precome slicking their movements.

"Hang on, Cas, I'm gonna come if we keep this up," panted Dean, pulling himself up with some difficulty.

"I thought that was the goal," said Cas, eyes glazed and face flushed.

Dean laughed as he reached for the lube. "Eventually, yeah, but you're going to like this too, I promise." He reached behind himself with slick fingers and Cas' eyes went wide as he understood. His hands went to Dean's hips and he stroked the skin there with trembling hands. His hips circled under Dean, who had slid up to hover over Cas' thighs once more. As Dean pressed a finger against his hole, Cas let out a breathy 'oh' and reached for Dean's neglected cock, fingers ghosting over the head and shaft as he explored Dean's body.

Dean groaned as he pressed in a second finger, and reached his other hand out to pull at Cas' shoulders, urging him to sit up. Succeeding, he pulled the angel into a deep kiss, matching the rhythm of his thrusting finger. Cas' hand drifted under Dean's balls and back until he was brushing the stretched skin around Dean's (now three) fingers.

"You wanna help, Cas?" Dean pulled away from the kiss, panting, and rested his head on Cas' shoulder.

Cas nodded wordlessly, and Dean scissored his fingers, making just enough room for one of Cas' to slip in beside them. Cas let out a small noise of wonder, hips jerking, cock rubbing against Dean's. He gently thrust the finger in deeper, breathing heavily.

"Dean I- can I-"

"Yes, Jesus, yes, Cas, come on-" Dean pulled his hand out, wincing at the speed, and pushed Cas back down on the bed, finger slipping free and falling to rest in the sheets.

Dean knee walked a step closer and wrapped one hand around Cas' rock hard erection. He gave it a long, slow stroke and slid it back, pressing the tip to his stretched hole.

As it breached him, Cas went rigid, eyes shut, teeth clenched, hands scrabbling for purchase. Dean's head fell forward and he leaned towards the angel, trying to find the right angle as he slid down slowly.

He bottomed out, balls pressed to Cas' skin, and leaned forward to kiss the tension from Cas' mouth. The angel relaxed slowly, licking into Dean's mouth, and his hands released their death grip on the sheets and came to rest on Dean's ass. Pulling his face away from Dean's, he took a deep breath. "Dean..." he breathed, "this is so much. How do you stand it?"

Dean lifted just a fraction and slid down again, drawing a long moan from Cas, who thrust back instinctively. "You just gotta let go, Cas. Don't think so much. Let me make you feel good, okay?"

Looking overwhelmed, the angel nodded.

Dean pressed his forehead to Cas's and resumed the rolling of his hips, starting slow. On every stroke, Cas let out a small, helpless noise, hands buried in Dean's short hair. As he became accustomed to the sensations coursing through him, his thrusts increased in force and Dean sped up, until they were slamming against each other, crying out with each stroke. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, pressing their chests together slickly and trapping his own cock between them. The friction built and Dean rode the wave, clenching Cas' cock tightly as he reached release. He let out a long groan and came, come splattering both of their stomachs.

Cas' eyes flew open at the tightness around his cock and he focused on Dean's face. His hips began to move erratically, and he whispered, a note of uncertainty in his voice, "Dean, something's- I don't know- oh!" With a final stuttering thrust, he came hard, kissing Dean frantically and then falling back on the bed, Dean splayed on top of him.

They lay panting together, silently, Castiel's face pressed to Dean's neck and Dean's arms wrapped tightly around Cas' waist.

Dean knew the calm euphoria wouldn't last - there were questions to be answered, boundaries to be navigated, and this was probably going to be the weirdest fucking relationship he'd had. But for the moment, with the angel in his arms and his heart rate slowing back down to normal speed, he was content. The blankets slid up around their shoulders and the quickly drying come vanished with a touch of angel mojo. Dean thought that there were definitely some special benefits to this interspecies relationship deal. As he drifted off to sleep, sweat drying on his skin, he smiled and pulled Cas closer.

This was good.


End file.
